Ten Thousand Nine Hundred and Forty Three Breaths
by Ssparkle2
Summary: The only Cullen to experience childbirth is Esme...and that ended in tragedy. How does she cope with her memories when Renesmee joins their family? Events take place during Breaking Dawn whilst Bella counts Edwards breaths. Rated M for some mature themes.
1. Esme's Heartache

**Disclaimer - unfortunately I own none of the characters, they all belong to the genuis that is SM.**

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**Esme POV**

The sounds of desperation and frantic activity filled my head as I paced from the kitchen to the living room over and over again.

I knew that Carlisle and Edward were the best people to be up there, but I couldn't help but feel a need to be there too. Sometimes, very rarely, I do feel cursed, and right now was one of those times. I could hear every laboured heart beat and never mind the screams of agony, I could hear every gasp, every bone that snapped, every time Bella ground her teeth together in pain before the morphine Carlisle had given her kicked in.

I felt myself beginning to hyperventilate – ridiculous considering I had no need for oxygen and I didn't even have a breathing reflex any more.

None of the others had any idea what Bella was going through. Not a single one of them. Carlisle had seen plenty of things in his long existence but he could only guess at what Bella's frail human body was going through. I was closer than most, but even I could only partly appreciate her agony.

I didn't know who to feel more afraid for. Bella? Edward? The baby?

Oh – the baby. I felt my knees go weak and the familiar ache in my abdomen that I felt every time I thought of...him.

My perfect memory – another curse; Unbidden, my mind took me back 90 years to my own bittersweet introduction to motherhood, each image a vivid and jarring reminder of what had been.

I remember the first light tightening, the fluttering in my belly that told me events were in motion. As they got worse curling in on myself as much as I could with my hugely swollen and tight abdomen and shutting my eyes until the discomfort passed. Worse still and I remember dropping to all fours on the floor like an animal. I remember that the somewhat painful and uncomfortable tightening gradually worsening and worsening and turning into debilitating cramps that caused my feet to circle and my toes to curl of their own accord. I remember clenching my teeth so tightly that I broke two of my molars – a reminder that I have even now when every other physical sign has been wiped away by the perfection of my new body.

I remember that each time the waves of pain came they were a little bit worse – a little bit stronger – they lasted a little bit longer. I remember each time thinking that that I couldn't possibly take any more.

I remember screaming in agony and terror at what was happening to me. The doctors telling me to be quiet – that it wasn't that bad – that other patients were sleeping.

I remember feeling like my internal organs were going to burst inside of me – surely they could not take that much pressure.

I remember the bouts of sickness that plagued me throughout my labour, uncontrollable stomach cramps to accompany all the other pains in my abdomen resulting in me bringing up everything and then dry heaving when there was nothing left – the humiliation of having to be taken to the toilet unable to stand unaided, unable to clean myself.

Then came the fire – something my children would recognise from their own first thirsty breaths after their changing; although this was as if a ball of fire were forcing itself out from inside me.

I remember feeling as if my body were trying to turn itself inside out; every muscle, every tendon, every bone in my body working in unison to push out the fire, to get rid of it.

I remember thinking that I would surely be torn in half, thinking that it wasn't possible, how could I survive this? How did anyone survive this? That something wasn't right; that I was dying.

And then, after hour upon hour of sweating and sickness and pain and terror...

...it stopped.

Completely.

Only a curious feeling of emptiness remained; and then...

I remember looking down as the midwife cut the umbilical cord and slapped him on the rump – seeing red at her taking a hand to my baby. I remember him letting out a wail of indignation and surprise at his new surroundings – loud and healthy. I remember seeing him properly for the first time as she held him up to me all red and wrinkled as though his skin was too big for his body. Being handed him and thinking how hot his little body was, how tiny and how perfect his fingers and toes were; all with soft yet fully formed nails. Noticing his flawless face, a button nose, a puckered mouth, folded ear lobes; his eyes closed tight against the too bright sunlight streaming through the windows.

I remember him being taken from to be wrapped in a pale blue blanket and immediately feeling lost without him, my arms cold and heart aching to have him back.

I remember holding him in my arms and staring at him drinking him in as he opened his eyes for the first time and returned my stare with his black eyes; unfocused, but wise with knowledge as old as time.

I remember holding him to my breast and feeling him feed, feeling proud of my baby taking nourishment from me – listening to the tiny swallowing noises he made; holding him to my shoulder afterwards to wind him and it being the most natural thing in the world.

I remember his miniscule hand curling around my finger and holding so tight, so trusting; knowing that I would keep him safe and warm, that I would guard him with my life and kill before letting anything happen to him.

I remember the softness of his skin, his hair; the lines on the palm of his hand; his arms waving uncontrollably; the sweet musky smell of a newborn; the mewling noises he made as he bobbed his head searching for more food, and the out and out cry when it wasn't immediately forthcoming.

I remember thinking 'He is mine.'

I remember...I remember...

Suddenly it was too much for me to stay within earshot of the house. I had to get out. I could feel grief and anger and a whole mix of other emotions welling up inside me. I needed to shout, I needed to fight, I needed to hunt, and I needed Carlisle to hold me but knew that I was being selfish. I needed to fill the gaping hole in my heart that the noises from upstairs had once again opened up.

Knowing that Alice and Edward were far too wrapped up in events to be keeping an eye on me meant that I had an unusual amount of freedom to go without chance of being followed and right at that moment I also knew that there was nothing I could do to help Bella that the others weren't already doing.

I'm not as fast as my boys; Jasper, Emmett and definitely not Edward. Carlisle often hangs back when we're hunting to stay alongside me, but he too is much faster than I am. So it took me almost an hour an hour of running before realising where I was heading. I had run without any thought for my destination, but knowing, as I did, that I was going to have to follow my memories through to their conclusion this time, I should have realised where my subconscious would take me.

I surveyed the familiar scene as I sat with my legs dangling over the edge of the cliff steeling my mind for the barrage of emotions that I was about to unleash on it. Thinking, with a wry smile, that now – this drop was nothing. 200 feet, 500 feet, even more I guess; I could jump off it and land elegantly on my feet, albeit slightly windswept, as if I had just jumped down a step; and it would take Emmett just a couple of seconds to scramble back up it again.

Thinking of Emmett pulled my mind back to the rest of my family and I worried about what was happening back at the house while I was away. I felt, however, that the path unfolding there was already set and my continued absence would have no bearing and play no part in the final outcome.

As I thought about Bella and the pain that she was enduring I found myself wondering what would have happened if I had met Carlisle again before I was pregnant – whether I would have been in Bella's position; the frail human carrying an unknown half breed child, and he in Edward's; despairing over the pain his actions had caused and watching the one he loved fall to pieces in front of his eyes. No – it was with a mixture of pride, love and an aching heart, that I realised Carlisle would never have put me in that position. He would have condemned himself to a possibly infinite existence of abject misery before laying a hand on me while I was still human. His fear of hurting me in even the most minor of ways, still present now even though we both knew it was nigh on impossible, would have overcome any desire to be with me.

Thinking of my Carlisle; my gentle, calm and loving husband for all eternity, made me smile a sad smile. I remembered the first time I saw him after I had completed my change. Although my need for blood and the thirst that raged in the back of my throat almost drove me to distraction, I caught sight of him and everything stopped. His worried eyes filled my consciousness and the thirst ceased to bother me. Remembering the first time I saw Carlisle soon brought my train of thought back to my perfect son and the reason I had run from my family in their time of need.


	2. Missing

**So here is the second Chapter from Carlisles POV this time.**

**Let me know what you think - many thanks to the reviewers for Chapter 1!!**

**Disclaimer - none of the marvellous characters are mine :-(**

I listened for the sound of the one person that I wanted to be near right now. It's a habit that I picked up working in numerous hospitals – all I have to do is focus my senses and I can tell you where everyone is in the hospital...or find one particular person as I wanted to do now. Of course, when you are in a hospital surrounded by humans it is much easier to pick one of them out. Everyone has a different way of walking; of talking; a slightly different sounding heart beat; a different smell; I could even tell you the difference between most of the doctors where I currently worked by listening to the sound of them writing. In a house full of vampires however, it requires a little more focused concentration.

I listened for the sound of Esme walking. I listened for her melodious voice comforting someone at this most stressful of times. I listened for the almost inaudible, even to us, running commentary she sometimes gave when she worked on a new project...nothing. I mentally searched the house for her scent – so recognisable and dear to me; I found it on the carpets, the furnishings, even on the crockery stacked by the sink...but no Esme.

I began to panic. It's not like we spend every minute together – but we do tend to always know where the other one is at any given time. Even when I'm on a 72 hour shift at the hospital I try to make sure I check in often, telling her titbits about what's going on at the hospital while she will chat to me about her day, trips she has made, what she's planning on doing – I just like hearing the sound of her voice – it grounds me and when I'm talking to her all other troubles or problems I may be facing during the day just fade into insignificance.

Why wasn't she here? Why on earth would she have gone somewhere when everyone needed her calming motherly reassurances so much? She was so close to Edward I just couldn't imagine what had made her decide to leave the house. He would need more comfort and love than anyone over the next few days – they would be rough on him to say the least. I was torn between my increasing concern over her whereabouts and a niggling frustration that she should be somewhere else when we needed her here; it was so unlike her. Then there was the baby to tend to – Rosalie was with her just now, but she would need......wait... The baby? Oh no, the baby – Esme – How could I have been so stupid?

"Oh, God," I breathed.

In the blink of an eye Alice was standing beside me concern in her eyes.

"What Carlisle? What is it? Is it...? Is Bella...? The baby...? What...?"

I could see Alice searching our futures for some further horror to have befallen her best friend or new niece only to come up with nothing. Her eyes refocused and she turned to me. I took both her slender shoulders in my hands but kept my head bent forwards, my eyes cast downwards.

"No...No...It's not them." I whispered.

I looked at her then and the expression on her face told me that the horror I was feeling inside was expressed outwardly in my eyes.

"Alice. I...I...Can't...I...Esme?" I begged hoping that she would understand my incoherent babbling – my voice breaking and betraying my emotions; my usually calm demeanour completely gone now. The events upstairs had shaken me more than I was willing to admit and now my worst nightmares seemed to be coming true too. What if she had left us? Left me? What if she was hurt? What if she was lost? What if she ran into some newborn vampires, or unknown werewolves?

I had to calm myself down – I was working myself up into a frenzy and that wasn't going to help anyone. I knew that all the horrific situations I was putting her in were highly unlikely, and that she was more than capable of taking care of herself. I had to pull myself together for the sake of not only me, but also my emotionally battered and bruised family.

Alice put her hand up to my face and the physical contact made me realise that I was still holding on tightly, too tightly, to her shoulders. I weakened my grip and she gave me a tight smile of thanks. Her eyes became unfocused and I knew she was trying to find Esme.

"She's undecided. I keep getting flashes of scenery. Wherever she's going – she's travelling fast."

Alice glanced into my face with a puzzled expression. The pleading in my eyes was enough for her to wait to ask her questions and she began looking again.

"Oh, I see now. Although I don't know where it is that she's going, I don't recognise it – she has at least made a decision. Um, ok, there's lots of countryside, trees, grass, its overcast and she's standing on the top of a cliff looking out."

Focusing on me once again she said "That's it. She doesn't seem to be making any kind of decisions so I can't see what she's going to do." Alice examined my pained expression, "Does that help?" she asked gently, and I could see again the concern in her face as she tried to fathom what could possibly have happened to make me so upset.

"Oh, Alice, I've been so stupid... I should have known...I should have realised... I know where she is." I knew that I was babbling again, but my mind was only focused, could only focus, on one thing "I've got to go to her... I wasn't there for her last time... I have to be this time."

Her eyes and mouth formed 3 round 'o's' as she began to piece together what I had already realised.

Before Alice could verbally respond I kissed her on the top of her head and dashed for the door – only pausing to turn, look her in the eye and say, "I'll be back soon – as soon as I can. Don't worry. Thank you, Alice."

With that I left the house.

I rarely challenge the fastest in our house: Edward and Emmett, they are far too competitive. I can, however, with a bit of determination, keep up with them for a short while. I rarely do, preferring to stay with Esme whenever we are all out hunting or exploring together; preferring to stay with Esme whenever I can and wherever we are actually. This was different though.

As I raced through the forest further and further from home I found a speed that I didn't even know I was capable of. I suppose it would be akin to the tiny human woman finding the strength to lift a car off her injured son – but I was literally flying over the ground. How I was moving today and my usual laid back running style were miles apart.

I knew where Esme was. Oh yes. She had been there before, although we had never been back since then. The last time she had been there, she had been totally alone in the world and the thought of that just about broke my stone heart. This time – I would be there with her, to save her all over again.


	3. The Best Mother

**Right, here's Chapter 3.**

**I hope you enjoy - please review as I found this pretty hard to write being a mother myself and would love to know what you think of it!**

**Thanks to my reviewers; especially 'Reminiscence of Happiness' who has been my first for both chapters so far!**

**Disclaimer - None of the characters are mine...apart from 'Doctor #1' - his cameo was all from my own mind!!!!!**

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As I looked down at the drop below me I allowed my mind to access those long suppressed memories.

I cried out as for the first time I truly felt the tidal wave of grief wash over me. My knees gave way from under me and I fell to the ground. Thinking about the precious and oh too short three days that I was a human mother actually hurt physically. My body had never felt pain like it, mental or physical. If I had been human I would have been vomiting but as it was I just dry heaved into the grass below me. None the less I forced myself to continue the relentless onslaught of memories.

*****

The first night was a long one and neither I nor my gorgeous baby got a lot of sleep. Not that I minded; I spent hours walking him up and down the hospital corridors which seemed to calm him. The nurses assured me that he was fine and just adjusting to the change in his environment and would calm down when my milk 'came in' which I understood to mean that he would then be able to eat more.

As the first few rays of sunlight filtered into the hospital dawning my first full day as a mother he did indeed seem to calm down. I was not willing to put him down and that morning he slept in my arms, safe and warm, for 3 hours. I, despite the protestations of the nursing staff, did not sleep. I stared in wonder as his little chest rose and fell and every now and then his limbs twitched. Love filled my heart as I had not realised it could. My baby; My son; My life and my love. As tired and as sore as I was, I was happier than I ever thought possible and I even had to send a silent thank you to my abusive husband for doing this one thing right. For a moment I was sad that my infant son would never know his father, but only for a moment. I would never risk my baby suffering the same abuse that I had for so many years. Just the thought of it made my blood boil and I mentally snarled at the image in my mind.

Day 2 came and my baby and I fell into some sort of shaky routine. He would wake, I would change his nappy and feed him, something we both enjoyed, sing to him and rock him. I would touch his face naming each of his features as I did so. I loved talking to him and even though he couldn't understand my words he seemed comforted by my voice.

It was mid afternoon when I became aware that all was not good. He began to breathe faster and the gentle chest movements that had accompanied his breathing became more marked until his whole body was moving each time he inhaled and exhaled.

After watching him for an half an hour or so I got the attention of a midwife who examined his tiny body and listened to his heart and lungs with a stethoscope; The cold metal making him cry and my heart ache at the noise, which, for some reason sounded quieter and less frantic than it had done previously. I glanced anxiously at the midwife...what was taking so long? Why was she still examining him?

Without a word she replaced his clothes and paced out of the ward leaving me more worried than I was when I first asked her in.

I bundled my baby up once again and held him to my breast to feed as it had been a good couple of hours since he had last fed. He latched on immediately but only took a few swallows before coming off and starting the plaintive cry from before again.

Now I knew something was wrong and I felt my heart begin to race wondering why my boy no longer wanted nourishment. At that moment the midwife returned with a Doctor following closely behind her.

"Let me see him," the doctor, whose name was one of the only things I couldn't remember, ordered.

I kissed my darling son on his forehead before tentatively handing him over, hoping beyond hope that he would be able to tell me what was wrong with my baby and make him better.

The doctor repeated the movements of the midwife before him, listening with a stethoscope seemingly too big for such a small chest. Again the examination was taking far longer than I was comfortable with and my anxiety level was only increased when I saw the two medical staff exchange a fleeting look.

More gently than I had seen him work before he dressed my boy; wrapped him back up in his pale blue blanket and handed him to me. Then, instead of leaving he sat at the foot of the hospital bed and appraised me with pitying eyes.

"Mrs Evenson..." He began in a kind tone, "Mrs Evenson, I'm afraid that I've got some bad news." I felt my pupils dilate and my heart rate increase even more – my breathing became ragged as I imagined all the terrible things that could be wrong with my perfect little baby. In truth, the reality was worse than anything I had been imagining.

"Your son has an infection in his lungs. He is not able to get enough oxygen into them at the moment, that's why he's using his stomach to help him breathe, to try and pull as much air in as he can. His heart is having to work harder than it's supposed to and that's making him tired and in turn making it harder for him to feed. Mrs Evenson, I'm afraid that it's just going to get worse. There's nothing we can do for him."

Right then, that's when a part of me died. It wasn't Carlisle's venom that stopped my heart; it couldn't have been because it had been ripped from my chest when I heard those words.

"No. No...I...No," was all I managed before hugging my baby boy to my chest and breaking down into sobs that wracked my body. Through my tears I could see the doctor reaching out to touch my arm but I shied away. I didn't want his comfort I wanted him to do something to save my son.

"How long?" I choked out the words through my tears.

"No longer than a day," the doctor replied gently.

Eventually both the doctor and the midwife adhered to my wishes and left me alone with my baby. For the next 24 hours I was the best mother I could be. I wanted my son to feel all the love I had to give him that I wouldn't be able to as he grew up.

*****

Dry sobs wracked my body as I remembered the feeling of helplessness and the knowledge that I would never see my baby reach for my hand or call me mummy or smile at me from his cot or introduce me to his first girlfriend.

*****

As each hour passed I felt my boy get weaker and weaker. At first he would try to suckle a little whenever I offered him my breast but by that night all he would do is turn his head to where he could sense the milk was. I tried to squeeze a small amount into his mouth but it just dribbled back out again so I settled for giving him small drops of water to keep his mouth moist.

He would sleep sporadically only to be woken by the jerking motions of his arms which were also becoming smaller and less frequent. He cried too, in hunger and I assumed in pain or discomfort and when he did all I could do was sing lullabies to him and rock him in my arms holding him close.

And then he stopped crying.

For the last 8 hours of my baby's life the only noises he made were tiny gruntings as it became harder and harder for him to breathe.

Every time he did breathe in I felt relief that he was still breathing and pity for how hard it was for him and how much it was paining him to do so. Love for him swelled my heart and the thought of being in this world without him was too much to bear - I knew what I had to do once I had seen this through to its wretched conclusion.

I stored every grunt and every wheeze in my memory; every second I had to spend with my boy more precious to me than any jewel could ever be. I memorised his face with my eyes and my fingers, etching it forever in my mind – eternally as it turned out.

I knew it was afternoon by the angle of the sun coming through the window when his breathing slowed. At first I hoped that it was a sign that the pressure in his chest was easing, but then I quickly realised that it just meant that his suffering was beginning to come to an end. I sang the sweetest lullaby I knew to try and bring him some kind of comfort as he began to slip away from me.

His breathing got slower and slower and more ragged and then he gripped onto my little finger with his hand, opened his eyes and stared once more into mine, seeing deep into my soul. He took one long deep breath and exhaled, then, he closed his eyes and my beautiful baby boy breathed no more.

I knew that he had said goodbye to me in the only way he could, with his eyes. I held his tiny still form closer to my chest as if to try and enclose him back into the safety of my body where he had been healthy and alive and not suffering.

In my arms he looked as though he was only sleeping, but I knew that this was a sleep he would never wake from. He would never again drink from my body; he would never open his eyes to look at me again; he would never cry from hunger or pain; he would never breathe again.

I don't know how long I sat there for but it was dark by the time someone managed to pry my sleeping boy from my arms. I had cried until there were no more tears and sobbed until my voice was no more than a rasping whisper in my throat. They tried to make me take some pill or other but I refused, preferring to live with my pain which would give me the courage to do what I needed to do to be with my baby.

*****

How I found my way in the dark I will never know but I found myself standing at the top of the cliff I sit by now.

I rubbed my abdomen and drew in a ragged breath much as my son had all those years ago – I knew that I would see this through to the end, and jump from the cliff once more but with oh so different consequences this time. Perhaps I would finally be able to lay my son to rest.

I stood on shaky legs and walked towards the edge. I closed my eyes and as I had done 90 years ago and stepped out into the air...

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**A/N - I have looked into how Esme's baby probably died and came to the conclusion that it was probably a Strep B infection. Babies regularly get this today too - but of course medical science being what it is now most (as far as I can tell) have a course of antibiotics and are fine. Strep B can cause Lung and other infections as well as meningitis. **

**'Grunting' is a very common symptom that babies have when they have respiratory problems/distress - and is an audible noise made as air is forced in and out of the lungs (again as far as I can tell)**

**I hope the medical bit is relatively accurate - feel free to let me know if I have got any of it wrong.**


	4. Lost and Found

**Firstly, sorry for the slight delay in posting as I know there are a couple of you waiting for this chapter! My son's birthday over the weekend so this was the first chance I got to get this up.**

**Next - as I write I like to see where the characters take me and as a result I think this Chapter is a bit darker than originally intended. As always, let me know what you think about the turn of events.**

**Many thanks for the reviews for the last chapter - they make writing worthwhile!**

**Disclaimer - none of the characters are mine :-(**

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**Lost and Found**

Carlisle POV

As I ran doubt began to creep into my mind again. What if I was wrong and Esme had not returned to the cliff where she had attempted to take her own life all those years ago? I would have an impossible choice to make. Return to the house where I knew I would undoubtedly be needed, not only to tend to and possibly help restrain a newborn and bloodthirsty Bella, but also to support my drained family; or search for my soul mate, who I had not spared a thought for during what must have been a heart wrenching time for her – for this I did not know if I could ever forgive myself.

This thought process spurred me on even faster and despite the fact it was daylight I decided to tempt fate and take the most direct route even though it would take me dangerously close to built up areas. I hoped that my sustained speed would mean that if anyone did see me it would only be as a glint of reflected light out of the corner of their eye.

As I approached the cliff face I became nervous for several reasons; it was daylight and I knew that Esme would be paying no attention to this in the state I imagined her to be in. The last thing we needed was another visit from the Volturi and as I would lay down my own life – I suspected that many others in the family would do the same – before seeing a hair harmed on my Esme's head, it would mean fighting, again. I was also unsure of how she would react to me being there at all. I knew now that I was in the right place as I had picked up her scent and been following it for the past several miles. I was the person that had taken her one opportunity to be with her son away from her. She was immortal and as such would never die. Added to the fact that if she believed Edward and his insistence that as 'monsters' we had no souls then even if such a calamity were to befall her, her soul would still never meet that of her son in heaven.

To me, my Esme was already an angel; her love and compassion changing the lives of many around her, not just of our family but that of the humans in Forks and other places we have lived; even of strangers with her random acts of kindness, the point of which leave Emmett at a loss – a state of mind that he voices loudly whenever the opportunity presents itself.

I stopped short when my angel came into view. I was far enough away that she would only have been able to sense my scent if she was concentrating on it and I could see from the look on her face that she was too deeply immersed in her own past to be thinking of anything else, let alone the man who took her choices away from her.

My whole being ached for her as I watched her beautiful face ravaged by the force of her emotions, a soft smile graced her lips momentarily only to be followed by a grimace of grief. I wanted to hold her, to stroke her hair, to kiss her eyes, her lips, her fingers, to hold her tightly to me and absorb her pain, but somehow I knew, and as much as it pained me to realise, that she needed to face this alone.

Although we have talked about her lost son on many occasions I have never forced her to open up to me about it, knowing that when and if she was ready to tell me the whole story that she would. She never has and again I wondered if this is because she blames me for taking away her chance to be with him again in death.

I wished at that moment more than any other that I had an ability like that of one of my children. Edward would be able to tell what she was thinking and remembering and feeling about those memories; Alice would have been able to see what Esme would do next; Jasper would have been able to tell me her exact emotional state; and I...well I could only stand here helplessly looking on.

Suddenly Esme had moved. She was standing now, her face twisted in pain but a strange look of resignation in her eyes. She had still not sensed that I was there watching her and I had to bite my lip to stop myself calling out to her. It took all my self control to not scramble up the cliff face to be with her and sweep her into my arms.

Then, without a moment's hesitation, she walked forwards and stepped out into nothingness.

I wrestled with my inner turmoil. Let her fall or catch her? I could see from her shape in the air that she was forcing her body to not do what came naturally and orientate itself to land on her feet. She remained limp like a rag doll and I knew she would hit the ground at a bone shattering angle had she still been human.

Watching her fall like this, I realised two things simultaneously. Firstly that this is exactly what it would have been like to watch her try and commit suicide in 1921; and secondly that if I actually let her hit the ground it would be my undoing. I could no more stand by and watch the impact than I could stand by and allow one of my children to kill a human. In fact, if I allowed Esme to reach the ground I would become a broken man. If the events of the past couple of weeks had taken their toll on me it was nothing compared to what would happen if I were to knowingly let events here run their course.

I ran without another thought. No, it was more than running. I launched myself at the area at the base of the cliff where Esme would hit and caught my wife in my arms.

As I felt myself beginning to calm down, knowing that she was safe and here in my arms she looked up into my eyes. With a start I noticed how hungry she had become; her pupils and the dark circles under her eyes almost black; another way that I had neglected my wife in her time of need. Then, of all the things I had imagined her doing in my head at this moment – kissing me, shouting at me, crying, smiling – she did something that I had in no way foreseen. She opened her mouth, and screamed.

My wife, my love, my life, leapt out of my arms. She turned on me and in an instant I knew why humans were scared of us. I had never seen my Esme's face look as it did now. There was such a look of hate in her eyes that I actually took a step back. She snarled and began to emit a low growling sound from the back of her throat. I was frightened. Not of being hurt by Esme as only a year or so after being newborn I was much stronger than her again, but of how my actions, both now and many years ago, had caused this reaction. With a sinking heart I realised that she had never forgiven me and although she did love me, there had always been this hate burning away inside of her.

As my darling wife flew at me with her teeth bared and rage in her eyes, I could only stand and take her slaps and punches – her nails raking their way across my skin, for I would never retaliate in a million years, and wonder how on earth I could ever put this right.

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**A/N - see, a little darker than anticipated - but never fear all will be explained in Chapter 6! Thanks for reading!**


	5. Instinct

**Right, well I like this chapter much more than the last one so I hope you guys do too!**

**Please review. Do you think that the anger is feasible? What about Carlisle's reaction to it?**

**Disclaimer - Carlisle and Esme belong to A. not me :-( **

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**Instinct**

At first I didn't realise what had happened; I had been falling through the air- it would have been an exhilarating feeling in different circumstances-and then there was no more falling but the impact that I had been expecting never came. Instead of the cold and jagged rocks beneath my back there were strong arms and a muscular chest.

All at once, the pent up anxiety I felt for my family, the grief that I had held in for so long over the loss of my dear, dear baby and the uncertainty of what the future would hold for my 'grandchild' were too much for my conscious mind to bear and pure instinct took over. I turned into the powerful, fierce and ferocious animal that each member of my family keeps under lock and key inside themselves. My senses were addled by my emotions and the only scent that I could discern was 'vampire'. I lashed out at the being that my subconscious considered to be my captor.

The instinctual fury that took over me was similar to the mist that clung to me in my wild newborn days and the inescapable bloodlust that had struck, much to my chagrin, on a handful of occasions in the early years when human blood had been spilled too closely and unexpectedly for me to compose myself.

I used my hands, feet and teeth to mount an attack on the body holding mine – his, for I did know it was a man, staggering back under the onslaught and intensity of the attack.

As my body worked of its own accord a tiny yet increasingly insistent voice in my head was telling me to stop, to step away, to take a moment and just _look_. It took a while for this voice to work through the pure rage the rest of my body was feeling but when it finally did I forced myself to leap backwards to avoid any sort of retaliation from the other immortal and to crouch, facing the person I was quickly coming to think of as my victim rather than my aggressor.

The rage I had been inexplicably feeling faded in my throat as I took in the dark eyes, the blonde hair and the concerned expression on the features of the man I had loved in one way or another for a century.

Of course I knew his scent – it was the sweetest I had ever encountered and I couldn't believe that I hadn't acknowledged it before.

Now, a new set of emotions filled my mind; Concern – had I hurt him? Relief – he was here. Shame – how could I have done that to the man I adored? Confusion – why had I done that? Love – always when I saw him I felt an overwhelming love.

I took a step towards him and he took a step back, breaking my heart as he did so.

"Carlisle, I..." I began, but faster than the human eye could see he was at my side; his arms enveloping me in a tight embrace. I heard and felt him inhaling through my hair and allowing my scent to fill his lungs. I made a move to wrap my arms around his torso to pull myself closer into him but he pushed me away and held me by my shoulders at arm's length. I could understand why he was wary of me, but still the pain of his rejection made my chest tight.

I looked into his face and saw a rare but familiar expression play across his features.

There were only 2 other times in our long acquaintance that I can ever remember Carlisle looking at me that way. Once was when I was a newborn, when the shock of seeing his eyes staring into mine had given way to the thirst once more after he and Edward had kept me restrained trying to calm me as I bayed for blood. They had finally released me once they had run me to a place in the woods where there were plenty of large carnivores to feast on – a meagre replacement – but somewhat thirst quenching nonetheless. I had eaten like a wild animal and once I had done I noticed that Carlisle was watching me in this way.

The second was 3 years after my change and 2 after we were married. We led a blessed life in general, Carlisle, Edward and I. But one evening we were walking through the streets of our local town when all 3 of us caught the scent of fresh human blood at the same time. I still retained a small amount of my newborn strength and speed, and set off in a purely reflexive reaction. It became clear that 2 men had got into a fight and unfortunately for them they had both been carrying knives; the cause and source of the fresh blood. Before either of my companions could stop me, I had drained one poor human and had my teeth sunk into the Jugular vein of the second. My wild eyes must have warned my husband and adopted son not approach me until I had drained the second human; both realising that at that moment I was capable of ripping them apart and that I would have no conscious choice in the matter. Once I had let the second body drop to the floor that was when he looked at me again with that same look in his eyes; the look he was giving me now.

I recognised that look now. My husband was afraid. Not of me; but of what I was capable of doing and what I was going to do next. I hated that I had made him look like that again. After the last time, I had vowed to never put him in the position again. I could tell that he was uncomfortable at the thought of having to restrain me, but that depending on the circumstances he would do if he had to. It was then that I realised with a start that he was examining my eyes; without question for traces of a burgundy tint to my dark irises. My face must have registered surprise at the thought that he presumed my previous outburst was from consumption of human blood because he cleared his throat and spoke for the first time since I had attacked him.

"I'm sorry, Esme." His usually musical voice was full of unhappiness and it took a second for me to register what he had said rather than just the tone.

"You're sorry?" I was incredulous. "Carlisle? Why would you be sorry? I attacked you – are you hurt? **I'm** sorry, I can never explain how sorry I am. You just...just...got here at a bad time. How did you know I was here? I'm so glad you are here though." Then a worrying thought crossed my mentally exhausted mind. "It's not Bella is it? What's happened? Did something go wrong?" My voice was rising in panic.

"No, no, Esme. Although Bella is not out of the woods yet, she is ok at the moment," he reassured me. "I'm sorry – well..."

He pulled me close once more, apparently satisfied that I was no longer a danger to him or anyone else and after a quick embrace led me to a fallen tree trunk to sit down. I leaned into his side and felt my love for him swell in my chest. I knew that I was going to have to tell him what led me to the cliff face and that I was actually going to have to talk to him properly about my loss. After what I had done he deserved that.

"Esme, I'm sorry because I was so thoughtless. I know you better than anyone; when I look in to your eyes I know what you're thinking; I can tell how you're feeling by the way you move your hands; and countless times we have had whole conversations without speaking. I feel that you are an extension of me. Without you I am not a complete man. But, I...I neglected you. I put everyone else first and didn't spare a thought to how this whole situation would be making you feel; what it would be making you _remember_.

"You were so broken when I found you and I didn't know if I would be able to save you. As the years go on that thought becomes more unbearable not less. And now...Now you have tried to do it again. Because of me. Because I should have sought you out even if it were only for a few seconds. No one else knows what it's like. Only you. And you went through it alone. That tears my heart in two."

Carlisle cast his eyes at the floor and even though I felt like my heart couldn't take any more on this day, it ached to see him so abashed.

I really looked at my husband and saw some of what he must have seen in my own face. His dark eyes were bordered underneath by huge black circles, his warm lips were set into a thin line and his smooth forehead was creased into a frown. I pressed my hand against his cheek and searched his eyes while I spoke.

"I should have asked for help a long time ago," I began quietly. "I have never got over the loss of my baby; instead as the years went on, I just didn't allow myself to think about him at all. Today I wasn't able to hide it anymore and I didn't want to break down in front of our children – they are having such a hard time coping anyway – I needed to be strong for them." I drew in a shaky breath. "If you would let me, I'd like to talk to you about it...about him." My voice hitched.

He mirrored my position and placed his hand on my cheek which I nuzzled into. "Esme? I want you to talk to me about him. I want to help you get through this."

He leaned towards me a question in his eyes. I answered by aligning my body with his and leaning into him until the tips of our noses were touching. He slid his hand to the back of my neck and closed the distance between our lips. Our kiss was passionate, it was tender, it was slow and it was sweet; it was home.

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**Views and opinions? Good or bad!**


	6. Everything

**Here is the second to last Chapter for this story, again written from Carlisle's POV**

**I hope you enjoy - please review, I love to know what you think!**

**Disclaimer - Nothing belongs to me, I'm just playing with someone elses creations!**

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Everything

"So, that's all I remember until I saw your eyes when I woke up" Esme smiled a watery smile at me.

In the last half an hour or so she had recounted every detail of her son's life to me; together we had smiled at his the enchanting things he did and I held her through the hardest parts of her retelling. The fact that she had kept this inside for so many years was astounding to me.

Each member of my family is physically strong but they are also all strong in other, different ways – Emmett has brute strength while Jasper has the strength of tenacity; Edward and Alice are mentally strong, the former withstanding the constant barrage of others' thoughts and little Alice forced to bear the future through the decisions of others – whatever that future might be. Rosalie is persistent to the point of obstinacy and liable to fly into a rage if she feels wronged – but her strength is passion; she loves with a passion, hates with a passion...drives with a passion! As for me; my family wrongfully but flatteringly label me the 'strongest' for my abstinence and seeming indifference for human blood.

I am not the strongest.

As I sit here stroking my wife's beautiful hair I marvel at the sheer strength of will it must have been to keep the circumstances surrounding the death of her son to herself for so long. Not only has she been a wife to me, the best wife a man could wish for; but from somewhere she has found it in her heart to adopt 5, no wait, 6 really counting Bella, young adult children. And treat them with as much care and show them as much love and _feel_ as much love for them as their own mothers did – or quite possibly more.

As strong as we may be, not one of us can understand Esme's grief, quite simply because _we_ were the ones to be taken away. Yes, Jasper could feel it and Edward could see what Esme sees, but not understand it. We were all turned at a point in our lives where we had not experienced the joys of parenthood, the source of much of Rosalie's anguish, and in our never changing states we never would. Perhaps now Edward had become a father he would be able to offer Esme some kind of council – that I would never be able to afford, much to my sorrow.

I mentally shook myself from my reverie and kissed the top of my wife's head.

"I will never let you go through anything on your own again. I wish you had been able to talk about it to me earlier, but that doesn't excuse my thoughtlessness at not checking on you when Bella came home." I whispered into her hair.

"Oh, Carlisle," she began "I'm not sure it would have helped anyway. I needed to do this alone. And now, maybe, he can be laid to rest."

She gasped as she caught the scent at the same time as I. Neither of us had hunted for a long time and with the harrowing circumstances at home and now here, our thirst was catching up with us. As ever, I was aware how much more the scent would affect Esme than me. Fresh, hot, human blood – not much, but enough. Normally in a situation like this I would have sent Esme to hunt and then gone to help the injured human but today was different. There was no way I was leaving her side, especially to give aid to a stranger. Besides I could smell that the injury was not life threatening. I took Esme by the hand and we ran away from the smell, from the cliff, from the past.

Several deer and a boar later we were both sated, at least that was one thing that I no longer had to worry about. I was aware that time was running out and that Bella would be waking up soon. Although I knew that Emmett and Jasper could probably handle her if she tried to bolt, I also knew that Edward would be grateful for my added experience in the room. I didn't want to push Esme to return to the house before she was ready though and as I was contemplating how to broach the subject of returning with her she spoke in a tone so low that even I had to strain to hear her.

"I named him you know. My son...I...I gave him a name. I called him Hugo. He...he didn't have a name until after...when he got really ill and I knew he wouldn't make it, I didn't want his soul nameless, so I named him. I remembered someone telling me that Hugo meant 'Heart, Mind and Spirit', and thinking that that's how he would stay with me; his spirit in my heart and mind – always."

Esme looked up at me with her now golden eyes and smiled. "And he has you know. Not a day goes past when I don't think about him. Don't think that I'm not happy, because you have made me the happiest woman in the world, but there will always be a sad place in my heart for my Hugo; wondering what might have been if he had survived." She sighed, "But then I wouldn't have spent my life with you."

I touched her upturned face lightly with my fingers. I cleared my throat and managed to stammer, "Esme, I didn't know. You never told me."

There was that bittersweet smile again. "I never told anyone Carlisle. That was one of the things that made it so hard. My darling baby must have been laid to rest in an unmarked grave." Her voice broke and she sobbed, "I didn't tell anyone...I didn't speak to anyone after they told me there was no hope...and then when he was taken from me...I fled from the hospital."

I pulled her into a fierce embrace holding her as tightly as I could feeling the broken sobs wrack her slender frame.

"You named his soul Esme – he entered the kingdom of Heaven as Hugo and there he remains still; your own angel watching you from above. All the love you gave to him, he felt. Your tiny baby could not have had a better mother, nor could you have given any more of yourself to him. He is at peace and..." I paused not sure whether I should continue, whether the words would bring comfort or more grief, "...and he would want you to be at peace too." I finished.

"You have carried around your burden alone for many long years but now I am here to share it with you. Watching you feel this way makes my own heart and soul ache and I wish I could take all the hurt away from you. But I am here Esme - for eternity."

Esme's arms snaked up my torso and for the first time reciprocated the embrace; crushing herself even more tightly against my chest. I breathed in her unmistakable scent and hoped that she would be able to get through this.

She took a shaky breath, "What would I do without you?" She questioned.

I bent my head to kiss her tenderly on the lips – a kiss which started gently but at her insistence became slowly more intense and passionate. When we finally broke apart - we would have been breathing hard if we had been human - there was a twinkle in her eye that had not been present before.

"Carlisle, I know we need to go home. Bella and Edward need you and I need to see my family but..." She smiled and this time it was a more open, genuine smile, "Humour me please...I want to run."

She chuckled at the look of confusion on my face. "I feel that a burden has been lifted somewhat and I want to run and feel free. Let's go the long way home!"

We ran with wild abandon. Sometimes she pulled me along, sometimes I pulled her; and she laughed. It was wonderful to hear.

As we approached Forks again I could sense some of her tension returning and I worried that she would withdraw into herself again when faced with a newborn in her home.

We stopped just short of the porch steps where we could both clearly hear the sound of a very unhappy newborn baby and she turned to face me, "I'll be ok," she said, "It might just take a bit of time for me to adjust."

With that, she turned and walked up the stairs.

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**So, they've made it home.**

**Couple of questions for you...**

**What do you think of the name? I wanted something that would actually mean something but that was also around in the 1920s. In case you're interested Hugo is an Old English name that was relatively popular in America in the 1920s according to my research.**

**What did you think of Carlisle's reaction to her worries about the baby remaining nameless? I thought that as the son of a Pastor he would probably talk about the 'Kingdom of Heaven' but let me know what you think about it.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	7. New Beginnings

**Well here it is - the last chapter.**

**Bella is not far from waking now, and that's where SM takes back over the story!!! **

**Disclaimer - I do not own the characters or main plot...I'm not sure whether the lullaby in mine of I have got it from somewhere else, but I do sing it to my son every night so who knows.**

**I hope you enjoy and think that it's an appropiate ending to this fanfic. Please let me know what you think of this chap and of the whole story - many thanks for reading along and special thanks to CarlieD and Reminiscense of Happiness who have been fantastic at reviewing every chapter for me and keeping me going!**

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New beginnings

"We've tried rocking, pacing, jiggling, feeding, burping, _changing,_" Emmett cringed at the memory of this, "and nothing works" he finished exasperated. The cries of Renesmee just got louder as he held her up to his face "What's the matter??! How can something so small make such a loud noise?" he exclaimed.

As the tiny baby stared at the bear of a man she paused in her screaming to study him for a moment –Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper and Alice would have held their breath if they had been breathing in the first place. As it was, the 'changing' episode had made them collectively decide to stop for the time being, or at least until the smell had dissipated. The moment passed all too quickly and Renesmee began to scream once again, with renewed vigour.

"I think my ears are starting to bleed," moaned Jasper burying his head in his hands. "Fighting an army of newborns? – No problem. Screaming baby? I can't cope! I can't even tell why she's screaming – there's no particular emotion attached to it at all. Aaaggh!" He turned to bury his head in Alice's neck, she in turn ruffled his hair affectionately.

The four vampires with a vast experience of almost all other areas of life were completely unprepared for the needs of an infant. As distracted as they were, unusually, no one noticed the approach of Carlisle and Esme until they actually slipped through the front door.

Esme stopped short and stared at her family and the new addition bundled in Emmett's burly arms – impossibly tiny against his massive frame. One pink hand emerged from the folds of blanket and waved uncontrollably in the air. At the sight she gasped audibly; Esme subconsciously raised one of her own arms and took a small step forward as if to reach out to the baby.

She glanced with wary eyes around the room once more. Discomfort was plain to see on the white faces of her children; she didn't need to be a mind reader to know that they were at a loss for what to do – not a situation that sat comfortably with any of the four proud individuals in front of her.

Her outstretched arm moved to her abdomen holding the place where she had once nurtured another, different human life. As it had earlier in the day her whole being ached to hold a baby in her arms once again – to smell the sweet musky scent of the newborn and to feel the hot skin, as yet unused to this alien environment against her own.

"Give her to me," she spoke quietly but in a voice that not even Emmett would disobey.

He stepped forward smartly and held out the babe-in-arms to Esme and in doing so could not stop the expression of relief cross the features of his face. Even Jasper visibly relaxed as the hand over was made.

Esme cradled the tiny infant in her arms and stared once more into the dark eyes of a newborn. Abruptly, the baby quieted and curled a tiny fist around her grandmother's finger.

Esme moved to a chair, for although she was just as comfortable sitting as standing, sitting seemed to be the natural thing to do. She whispered to the baby in her arms and then started to hum a melody that none of the others recognised.

All the eyes in the room, from the golden irises of Carlisle to the almost black ones of Rosalie who had been so attentive to Bella that she had not hunted anywhere near enough, were on Esme as she comforted the child.

Then, to the surprise of everyone in the room, she did something that none of her children or even her husband had ever heard her do before. She started to sing.

There was not a sound in the room – no one breathed, no one moved – as Esme sang with the most beautiful voice any of them had ever heard. For those in the room that could remember their mothers it was a lullaby that instantly took them back to the reassuring arms that had protected them as children.

_Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye; _

_Mama will sing you a Lullaby._

_Hush-a-bye, my angel eyes;_

_You're safe here so sleep in my arms._

Unprecedented, tears of venom fell from her eyes and ran down her face as she sang again the sweetest lullaby she knew, this time to her granddaughter. The last time she had sung this lullaby, in fact the last time she had sung at all, had been as her own infant son took his last laboured breath while she cradled him in her arms in just the same way as she was cradling Renesmee now.

_Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye;_

_Let go your breath as a sleepy sigh._

_Hush-a-bye, lullaby;_

_Close your eyes; sleep now my love._

No one had ever seen one of the family cry before and everyone in the room drew closer to their mate as they realised they were witnessing grief like they had never seen nor would ever experience so long as their spouse was by their side. Although Carlisle's eyes remained dry, his expression matched that of his wife as she sweetly sang to their grandchild and he moved to her side resting his hand lightly on her shoulder.

Emmett pulled Rosalie into a bear hug which she broke only to look deeply into his eyes, cup his cheek in her hand and kiss him on the lips with unusually chaste tenderness before tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her arms around his neck; Alice danced around to stand in front of Jasper, beaming at him with her infectious smile. His strong arms lifted her petite form off her feet with no effort at all and held her tightly while she buried her face in his neck – whispering in his ear so softly that only he could hear her words. Whatever they were, they made his own smile broader and his arms tighten further on her torso.

Even the sound of Edward's harsh ragged breathing from upstairs calmed some as Esme's lullaby soothed his troubled soul.

Carlisle squatted down in front of his wife and she raised her tear streaked face to meet his eyes.

"She's beautiful," Esme spoke in a hushed tone careful not to jostle or surprise the sleeping baby. "What's her name?"

"Bella named her Renesmee after her mother...and you." Carlisle responded shuffling closer and resting his hand on his wife's knee – he wanted to be as close to her as possible.

Esme smiled a mournful smile. "Is she..." she began and then faltered, continuing in the barest whisper, "Is she...healthy?"

In this Carlisle knew that he could reassure her. "She is very healthy my love. Listen to her heart beat, the movement of air into and out of her lungs, there's no crackling, no faltering. Renesmee is going to be in our lives for many years to come."

Upon hearing her husband's words the tension visibly fell from Esme's shoulders and her face took on a more beatific expression. The pain of losing her son would always be with her, she knew that. But now she had faced her demons. She had relived his last moments; moments that she hadn't allowed herself to think of in many, many years, and had survived. She knew also that the miracle that was Renesmee would go some way to filling the hole in her soul that craved a baby; the sights, the sounds and yes, even the smells, of a newborn baby. Her own five 'children' were the most loving, individual, demanding, and sometimes downright frustrating adopted children she could wish for, but there were some things they could never give her.

She stood and chuckled at the look of apprehension on the faces of the younger members of her family.

"It's ok. She's sleeping now. The poor little mite was just really overtired. I'm sure that meeting you lot all at once took it out of her! She'll have a good long sleep now, so long as someone's holding her I'd imagine – any takers?"

Suddenly the space in front of her was filled with loving aunts and uncles all wanting to cradle their new – quiet – niece.

After handing the sleeping bundle over her hand sought out that of her husband's. She turned to him and smiled, "Look at our family, Carlisle. We're so lucky."

He cocked his head for a moment and then replied, "It sounds like you will soon be the mother of six and grandmother of one – how does that sound to you?"

"That sounds perfect...Grandpa!"

He smiled then looked warily into her eyes the question unspoken but obvious nonetheless.

"I'm fine, I promise you – it's time to move on and enjoy our expanding family. Now, prepare yourself, I think perhaps it's time to go and meet our newest daughter..." Esme took his hand and pulled him towards the stairs.

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**As they say...That's All Folks! Please Review!! Thanks in advance, Steph :-)**


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